


Match Made in Hell

by echowolfM



Category: DCU (Comics), Poison Ivy (Comics), Wonder Woman - All Media Types
Genre: Dark Nights Death Metal, Dark Nights Death Metal Guidebook, F/F, because i love the idea of them as a pair, continuation of Seeds of Hope, like they cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:28:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26260411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/echowolfM/pseuds/echowolfM
Summary: *Continuation of Seeds of Hope from the Dark Nights Death Metal Guidebook*"Somehow, they had carved out a little bit of peace within each other."
Relationships: Diana (Wonder Woman)/Pamela Isley
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Match Made in Hell

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not intentionally misinterpreting anything from Seeds of Hope  
> Nope! Not at all!

Diana doesn’t seek her out intentionally. At least, not at first.

In this hellish… well, _Hell_ that she has been left at the head of, company was the one thing that Diana craved above most everything else. Only the freedom and restoration of the Earth rose above this selfish desire.

Alec Holland, once better known as Swamp Thing, was fine at conversation, but he was not one she could ever dream of lamenting to. He was her rock in this storm, even as his body smoldered and his soul burned with the hellfire that illuminated their cavernous domain.

She felt lonely? _Ha!_ She could scarcely imagine the pain he felt every waking second.

When Pamela Isley, better known as Poison Ivy escaped her cell and caught a glimpse of the outside, Diana had felt like a failure.

The Batman that Laughed might have wished her to be a warden to the criminals, but with Alec’s assurances, she’s become a gardian of the few untouched minds left in this world. Few of these rogues had seen the darkness and death outside, and they swore at her and taunted her at every turn. It was the smallest shred of normalcy- from a time that felt so far into the past that it beckoned to her like a distant memory.

Some days, Diana could lose herself in it, pretend she is visiting someone else’s prison filled with hateful criminals. She could pretend Bruce and Clark and all of her other friends and family were waiting for her to come out of the dungeon and into the bright, warm light of the outside…

But then Ivy had escaped, and the charade was broken.

She had failed Pamela, and because of it the woman no longer hurled insults, instead casting her forlorn glances when she passed by her cell. She tended to the little bundle of plants Diana had given to her every waking moment, speaking to each stem and leaf comfortingly, like a mother soothing a frightened, voiceless child.

The green skinned woman always took Diana out of the haze she had created for herself. She was a reminder, a scar upon her safe haven. She had to move Ivy’s cell not long after the escape attempt because the other Rogues near her began asking questions. They couldn’t understand her sudden hopelessness, and Diana couldn’t let this secret get out. She needed to let the others believe what they wanted, and yet she couldn’t take back what Ivy had seen, or the despair she had felt.

But Ivy’s revelation had changed more than just the haze she had created.

Now, Diana was drawn to her.

She would stand just out of sight of the cell entrance, listening to Ivy tend to her little garden and whisper soothing words to them. Even standing in the presence of someone that knew their reality was comforting in a strange sort of way. Just a few steps and she would be in the company of someone that understood her plight. Understood the weight she felt on her back every waking moment while everyone else in this hell pit was kept in the dark.

One night, after a nightmare filled sleep, Diana sought out the redhead’s cell. She listened to her slumbering breath and watched the rise and fall of her shoulders as she lay next to her little garden. The Hellfire that lined the halls had dimmed for the night, and the cavernous cells had gained a chill. She noticed Ivy’s blanket alone and abandoned on her cot, and against her better judgment she entered the cell, retrieved the blanket, and laid it over the sleeping woman.

She knew Ivy had awoken, her breathing was now intentionally shallow and rhythmic, and so Diana hurries out of the cell and back to her room.

The next few days, Diana found that Ivy was a little more welcoming to her presence, giving her small nods or a faint, broken smile as she passed on patrol. When she stood outside Ivy’s cell and listened to her work, she’d hear the woman mention her to the plants every once in a while. It always brought a silly smile to Diana’s lips.

One day, Ivy was apparently feeling bold.

“I’d rather you speak to me than spy on me.” She called out of the cell.

“I haven’t much to say, I’m afraid.” Diana admits, embarrassed at being caught.

“I seriously doubt that.” Ivy’s voice is tired, but playful, and Diana moves to stand before the cell so they can look upon each other.

“So, what’s with the sudden interest?” Ivy askes, unashamed and obviously not interested in beating around the bush.

“It’s nice to be in the company of one that knows.”

“Well, you’ve been poor company.” Ivy crosses her arms.

“I apologize for that.” Diana can’t meet her eye, but knows in her head that she’s being toyed with. “I don’t know what we could speak of.”

“Well, for one, you could explain how all of this came to be?” Ivy suggests.

Diana hesitates. “It isn’t a story you will like.”

“It’s one that will help me come to terms with this mess.” When their eyes do meet, she knows Ivy isn’t angry, and so she tells her everything she remembers.

And things proceed from there.

She ends every day visiting Ivy’s cell and talking to her about anything and everything they can think of. They tell each other stories, gossip like children about the other inmates, and teach each other little games or songs during their conversations. Every once in a while, Diana will lose track of time and spend half the night at her cell. If Alec knows of these chats- which he must by this point- he doesn’t mention them.

As their meetings continue, Diana is able to see the growth of Ivy’s little garden, and sometimes Ivy will share the little berries that are grown off some of the smaller vines. Diana returns her kindness with what little roots and things she can dig up from the upper levels of the prison. Ivy teaches her about what she can, but in this new world even the plants have changed and become foreign to them both.

One day, Diana awakens frustrated. She had a long, sleepless night, and the day before had to cut her visit to Ivy short due to a prisoner transfer and a visit by the Batmen. She continues her mundane patrols and tasks and feels her mood deteriorating until she snaps at Alec for something so small and insignificant, she is sure she’ll feel guilty for days after.

When she visits Ivy after, she is still bothered by the weight of the world that was seemingly falling on her shoulders all day long.

“You look like you’ve been through Hell.” Ivy comments as she leans back on her arms, sitting cross legged next to her growing garden.

“That joke grows old,” Diana warns, but there is no bite to her voice.

“Did something happen, or is it just one of those days?”

“One of those days, I guess, or the culmination of many days finally falling upon my psyche.”

“Let’s not get clinical here,” Ivy waves that off immediately. “I don’t think either of us are stable enough for such a heart to heart.”

Diana lets out a chuckle. “Like you’d ever listen to my heart.”

“I haven’t much else to do. These plants grow well enough on their own. I mostly speak to them for my own benefit.” Ivy smiles, leaning back on her arms.

Diana catches herself looking down Ivy’s front, and glances away with a sigh. “This prison tends to itself as well. I walk so the others can curse me. So they can hate me and help me pretend that none of this is real.”

“That’s a dangerous road to walk, Wonder.” Ivy’s brows nit together, worried. “You losing your grip on reality is the last thing that any of us needs. Plus, you’ve promised me that you’ll save the world, remember?”

Diana wishes she knew where that confidence had gone. “I remember.”

“You know, a friend once told me that it isn’t bad to have bad days.” Ivy leans forwards, her bare knee brushing against one of the faintly growing ferns in her little garden. “Just so long as you always know that the bad day will eventually pass.”

“Wise words.” She chuckles lightly. “Who told them to you?”

“Harley Quinn, if you can believe that.” They both laugh. “Look, Wonder Woman, I can’t exactly do much, but… if there’s anything I can do to help, please let me know. You can talk as long as you need, and while I might not have advise to give, I will listen.”

Diana looks to the redhead and feels herself falling into her spring green eyes. She feels a selfish desire bubble up from the pit of her stomach, and despite how had she tries to steel herself, she sees a flash of recognition in Ivy’s eyes.

She expects to be met with disgust or anger, but instead Ivy’s eyes turn heated. She uncrosses her legs and leans back on her forearms, openly offering herself to Diana. And against her better judgment, Diana unlocks the cell and enters, kneeling between Ivy’s spread legs and pressing a deep, hungry kiss against her plump red lips.

Even if she has misjudged, Ivy does not resist. Instead, she wraps her thin arms around Diana’s neck and pulls them both down. They groan into each other’s mouths, tongues meeting and meshing in a desperate attempt to distract themselves from the hell they were surrounded by. Hands tangled in hair, traced the grooves of armor and leaves, and lips danced across whatever flesh they could reach.

When it became clear that they both wanted more, Diana stood, pulling Ivy up with her and covering her with her cloak, she escorted Ivy to her personal quarters and straight into her bed. They disrobed each other and lost themselves in the crimson silk sheets.

It was harsh, angry, and yet mournful all the same as they took out their frustrations on each other’s bodies. Teeth bruised skin and nails dug into flesh. They didn’t care about marks or who heard them. They cried out loudly and sang each other’s names, completely unashamed and uncaring of any punishments that might befall this tryst. Together, they mourned their world and the Green and all that they had lost, burying their grief deep within each other’s skin and shedding angry tears that are disguised as indescribable pleasure.

When they are both left trembling and weak, Diana allows Ivy to sleep under her silken sheets, and for the first time her bed felt warm and inviting. Fitting herself behind Ivy, she held onto what little comfort she had found in this Hell and vowed to never let it go.

In the coming days, Ivy spent more time in Diana’s room than in her own cell. She would wait for Diana to return from her rounds and sometimes they would have sex, and other times they would just lazily kiss and caress each other, telling silly stories and ridding themselves of the gloom of this new world.

It was meant to be a secret when it happened twice, but their meetings had ramped up so quickly that sometimes, when Alec knew she was having a hard day, he would fetch Ivy for her. He never commented on their activities, and Diana was always grateful for that.

Ivy is kind to her, offering her ear and shoulder whenever Diana needed, and Diana makes sure to offer the same support to Ivy when her little garden’s health wavers. Somehow, they had carved out a little bit of peace within each other, and while neither said anything about it openly, they both felt deeply grateful for all that formed between them.

With all that Ivy had given her, Diana found herself having less bad days. She walked with purpose again, with her head held high and grounded in the reality that they lived in. She took on all of the other prisoner’s anger with stride, never once allowing her appearances to falter. Whenever the Batmen came with a new prisoner, she keeps a stoic face, knowing that she has someone to vent to when they leave. Someone who will hold her close as she cries for the imprisonment of an old friend or adversary.

But one day, the Batmen come, hand their prisoner to Swampthing, and then stay.

They stay and ask her about the health of her prisoners and taunt her with the lives of her Amazonian sisters, but as their questions and lectures drone on and on, Diana notices something. There were four Batmen that came on this visit, but one had snuck away.

When Diana hears a scream echo through the prison’s halls, her blood runs cold. She abandons the Batmen without a word, following the sound to a cell hidden in the far back of the prison.

She finds the Batman that wears black leather and a futuristic cowboy hat dead before the cell, covered in spiny vines that had sprung from the cell to defend their caretaker. Diana rips off the door of the cell, tearing away the protective foliage that hid away the awful crime this foreign Batman has committed.

Ivy is lying in her poor garden, the plants she had so carefully tended to crushed beneath her bleeding body. Her stomach and chest is littered with bullet holes, and her think arms tremble as she instinctively attempts to cover her own wounds.

“Ivy-” Diana’s voice cracks as she falls to the redhead’s side.

She tries to staunch some of the bleeding, and she hears the Batmen taunt her from outside of the cell.

“You’ve been a poor warden,” One sneers.

“Having such intimate relations with your prisoners.” Another mocks.

“She’s as good as dead now. Maybe that’s for the best.” A final one picks up the body of the fallen Bat. “She’d not like the punishment for _this_.”

Diana ignores them entirely, pulling Ivy up and cradling her shivering body in her arms.

“Pamela, please…” Diana can’t stop the tears from rolling down her cheeks. “Please, I’ll get you help, just please stay with me!”

Ivy’s spring green eyes manage to open slightly. “Don’t you dare cry for me, Diana.”

Her green hand, now stained dark red, caresses her cheek, wiping away the tears and leaving a trail of blood behind.

“Don’t cry for me,” She repeated as Diana held her close. “I’m going to be free… Don’t cry for me… … Burry me outside… if you can… … … please, don’t cry for me…”

Diana can’t speak, or else she’ll argue with her, and beg her to stay. As Ivy dies in her arms, she knows the woman is content with her death, and it only worsens the ache in Diana’s chest.

Diana holds her until her body grows stiff and cold. When she carries Ivy’s body through the halls, all of the Rogues and criminals grow quiet. Swampthing follows in silent vigil, and when she reaches the gateway to the endless desert outside of her Hell, Diana lays her body across her cape.

It takes a full day to dig out a hole deep and long enough to be called a proper grave in the relentless sands, and Swamp Thing carves a small headstone from a rock he finds in the outside. It has to be nameless, else the Bats might come and dig her up to spite her, but it is a carving of the plants Ivy had grown in her cell.

She wraps Pamela in the red, silken sheets that they shared in her bed, and buries her under the light of a full moon. Swamp Thing never leaves her side, and when she returns to her duties, all of her prisoners are quiet and complacent.

She wishes they’d scream at her. She wishes they’d curse her. She wishes they’d treat her no different than before, that way she can forget once again.


End file.
